2026-07-04 23:12:27"Is there really no one else who wishes to uncover the hidden secrets of this imperial ring? This treasure has even caught the attention of wealthy overseas collectors! Three million going once..."
An absolute silence fell over the grand room. Derek smirked, shouting out proudly, "Just call it, host! No one else here has the guts or the money!" Julia turned around, confident that the ring was already going to be theirs now. After all, her loser husband turned out to be exactly that– a sore loser. "You came all the way to a luxury auction, and haven't bid a single cent on a single thing all night! And you still try to claim you're not here looking for a minor job to fill your stomach? What a joke!" Harry shot a cold glance back at her. Then, his eyes focused on the antique ring sitting inside the glass case. Something about that ancient crest felt familiar, but he couldn't figure out what. The Yorvenn clan… he remembered the name from his mother's bedtime stories. It was the same family she had belonged to, before she eloped with his father. Maybe… maybe, the secret of this royal treasure had something to do with his own bloodline as well. And besides, a few million dollars meant absolutely nothing to him anyway. The host raised her wooden gavel, about to announce the final winner. "Three million going thrice... Then let us congrat—" “Six million!” Harry casually raised his bidding paddle, his voice cutting through the room like a thunderclap. The host’s spirits rose, the price had doubled outright! Julia stood up in her seat. "Are you insane, Harry?! If you can't digest my bitter yet true words, then at least remember your reality! You belong to the bottom class, someone who can't even be assured about his next meal. You're going to get arrested for fraud!" Derek also glared at him, slamming his hand down. "You idiot, do you even know what 6 million looks like?!" Harry simply shrugged. "If you don't have the funds to keep up, shut your mouths and sit down." Derek’s face twisted with rage. "You think you can scare me?!" He raised his paddle aggressively. "6.5 million!" He only had 10 million in total, so he could only increment gradually. But it didn't matter, because he believed in his heart that a delivery boy like Harry couldn't possibly have real money. He was just bluffing, and all Derek had to do was out-do him at this game. "Let's see if your bank account can handle the heat, loser!" Without blinking, Harry raised his paddle. "10 million dollars." He was not going to play games, Derek's strategy was way too slow and boring. The hall was suspended in pin drop silence. Derek’s hands began to shake violently. He demanded loudly, "Where the hell did a beggar like you get that kind of money?” Julia joined in, “Did you sell your soul off, along with your brains? Even then, I don't think you'll get 5 peanuts for both of them.” The host, ignoring the taunts, adjusted her microphone. “10 million dollars is bid! Are there any higher bids in the room?" Derek’s heart panicked, and quickly turned to Julia. "Jules, lend me some money right now! I need to show this parasite his real place…” Julia, desperate to humiliate Harry, quickly transferred one million dollars from her company's reserve account to Derek. With the extra funds in his account, Derek raised his paddle with a sweating palm. "10.1 million dollars!" He only had that one million left to bid with, and he could only increase the price by the bare minimum of $100 thousand. While Derek nervously squeezed out the bid using Julia's loan, Harry didn't even blink before raising his paddle high once more. "Twelve million dollars." The moment the words left his mouth, people started turning around in their seats, trying to get a look at him. They were whispering loudly, their eyes wide with disbelief. $12 million was absolutely no small sum, even for the wealthy elites of the city. That kind of money could buy multiple luxury skyscrapers! Julia stood up, pointing her finger at him. "Twelve million?! Harry, come back to your senses before your sugar mommy kicks you out for wasting her money! Or worse, before you get dragged out for fraud—” Derek also slammed his fist on his armrest, shouting, "You're just throwing out random numbers to mess with us, aren't you?” “I have the money. But anyway, you two don't need to worry your little heads about my business. Just keep bidding if you have the guts."
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Chapter 213
A salt-laced wind swept across the edge of Sentinel Bluff, rustling the tall silvergrass that clung to the jagged limestone cliffs. Below, the northern harbor stretched out like a dark velvet blanket, dotted with the yellow navigation lights of container vessels and the distant, glowing grid of the metropolitan skyline.Harry stood near the precipice with his hands resting in the pockets of his dark trousers. The midnight suit jacket had been left behind at the Levine manor, still wrapped around Priscilla's bruised shoulders. He wore only a plain, charcoal-gray thermal shirt, the fabric stretched taut across his broad shoulders and back. The dried smears of mercenary blood had been washed away, but the scent of ozone and ancient pine still clung faintly to the pores of his skin.He closed his eyes, inhaling the crisp, freezing mountain air deep into his lungs.The moment he slowed his breathing, the dormant power inside his body responded.It was no longer the wild, bucking tempes
Chapter 212
Noemie’s breath hitched in her throat, a cold, icy prickle running down her spine. "Who were they hunting?" Julian looked at her intently, his brow furrowing with deep, complicated caution. "They were cornering that young man," Julian muttered, dropping his voice to a bare whisper. "The one you've been asking our scouts about. Harry Kipling." The room seemed to violently tilt on its axis. The color drained from Noemie’s face so fast it felt like a bucket of freezing ice water had been dumped straight over her skull! Her fingers gripped the cold edge of the marble bar so tightly that her knuckles turned stark white, the blood roaring in her ears like a deafening waterfall. "Harry...?" Noemie whispered, her voice cracking as a wave of suffocating, blinding panic clawed at her throat. "What do you mean, hunting him?! Is he... did they—" "I don't know the full details, Noemie!" Julian interrupted quickly, his own frustration and alarm bleeding through his composed mask. "The entire
Chapter 211
The private penthouse lounge on the sixty-fourth floor of the Solis Tower was bathed in the dim, golden amber of the approaching dusk. Floor-to-ceiling panoramic glass panes looked out over the sprawling metropolitan harbor, where cargo freighters and luxury yachts drifted like toy ships across the gray water.Inside the quiet, minimalist study, Noemie sat on a wide cream-colored velvet armchair, an untouched cup of Earl Grey tea growing cold on the frosted glass side table beside her. A leather-bound sketchbook rested open on her lap, a charcoal pencil balanced idly between her slender, manicured fingers. Normally, the gentle hush of the high-altitude suite was her haven, a sanctuary away from the suffocating political maneuvers of high society.Today, however, the charcoal hadn’t touched the page for hours.A persistent, hollow dread had settled deep behind her sternum, cold and heavy like an anchor dragged across jagged rocks.The heavy double doors of the private elevator vest
Chapter 210
Priscilla leaned back against the high stack of goose-down pillows on her four-poster bed, the faint, clean scent of crushed wintergreen and ancestral ginseng ointment rising from the white linen bandages bound neatly around her wrists. Every few minutes, a nurse in a crisp gray uniform tiptoed into the quiet chamber to change the cold herbal compresses resting on her swollen cheekbones, speaking only in hushed, reverent murmurs before slipping back out through the double doors.For the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, the deafening noise of the world had completely ceased.There were no screaming kidnappers. There was no freezing concrete beneath her knees. There was no smell of burnt motor oil, stale tobacco, or the humiliating sting of coarse leather gloves striking her skin. And yet, whenever Priscilla let her heavy violet eyes flutter shut, the terrifying echoes of the godown tried to claw their way back into her chest.Her breath hitched, and she instinctively reached
Chapter 209
"When those ruthless animals had me trapped, it was Harry who answered my call! He came alone! He tracked them through the city, stormed the warehouse, and single-handedly fought his way through twenty armed mercenaries with his bare hands to pull me out of that hell! He took down three entire layers of elite killers without hesitation, just to keep me safe! He is my savior! If not for Harry Kipling, your granddaughter would be a mutilated corpse in a ditch right now!" Every single word landed like a massive boulder crashing into a calm lake, shattering the courtyard into dead, ringing silence! The eight security guards turned to stare at Harry with sheer, petrified awe. One man... fought through twenty armed mercenaries with his bare hands?! What kind of monstrous, mythical warrior was standing in front of them?! Old Master Levine closed his eyes for a brief second, exhaling a long, shuddering breath. The encrypted message from Wes Humbright echoed in his mind: “A young dragon of
Chapter 206
The eight estate security guards hesitated for a split second, their hands tightening nervously on their heavy stun batons as Violet’s screech echoed off the high marble walls of the courtyard. The air felt thick, heavy, and dangerously volatile, like a lightning storm trapped inside a glass bottle. "Did you deaf idiots not hear me?!" Violet shrieked again, her face contorting with ugly, red-faced hysteria as her pointed red stilettos stomped against the paving stones. "I said break his legs! Shatter his kneecaps! He is a common criminal who assaulted our first heiress! Attack him!" Seeing the guards twitch, preparing to lunge forward in a coordinated strike, Harry didn't take a single step back. He didn't even shift his center of gravity. His arm remained locked firmly around Priscilla's trembling waist, his chin held high, while his emerald eyes darkened into a chilling, abyss-like void. A microscopic fraction of the celestial dragon qi resting dormant within his meridians sti
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